Days turned into weeks ,and weeks into two months, and the bonds between us grew stronger, almost as if time itself was knitting the fabric of our friendship tighter with each passing day. What started as casual encounters slowly transformed into something more profound, which I would cherish it for lifetime.

And then one day Raina approched us. Her arrival in our group was like the addition of a vibrant new color to an already beautiful painting. She was bold, witty, and carried an energy that was contagious. It wasn't long before she became an integral part of our little circle.

For someone like me - an introvert who once hesitated to step out of the shadows, this was a change I never anticipated. I used to watch from the sidelines, happy with my quiet observations, letting the world whirl around me without feeling the need to jump in. Conversations were something I engaged in only when necessary, and social interactions felt like tasks rather than joy.

But now, the unease that used to creep in during these moments had slowly dissolved, replaced by a sense of belonging that warmed me from within. Things were getting different.
Being with them, I discovered a new side of myself. A side that could laugh freely among us.

The transition wasn't sudden, but gradual, almost undetectable until one day, I looked around and realized just how much I had changed. And surprisingly, I loved it.

...Games period...

Our class was in the midst of a lively volleyball match when the unexpected announcement came from our game teacher: all three sections of the 11th grade - A, B, and C would be playing together.

A wave of excitement spreads through my classmates, voices rising in unison, cheering. I guess it's the joy of reuniting after being separated by the different streams they had chosen. Everyone seemed thrilled - everyone except me, it seemed. The ground buzzed with energy as the other sections joined us, their faces alight with joy.

It was clear that they were glad to see each other again, the bonds they'd formed in earlier years rekindling instantly. Our teacher divided the teams and then allotted us with the two grounds. Our group which was divided into two teams, quickly took their position. My friends, ended up together, while I found myself on the opposite side, facing them as an opponent.

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as the game began, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside me. Now to whom should I say that I don't know the game?? who will teach me???

The volleyball game started... Laughter and playful banter echoed across the court as the game picked up pace. I noticed how the others were more confident and eager for their turn to hit the ball, their movements a blend of playful rivalry and genuine enjoyment.

Though I saw students slightly fighting for their chance to hit the ball, take charge of the service. I was happy since I was new to this, i didn't want to jump in.

They were all friends, familiar with the game and each other. They would chuckle or grumble when someone missed the ball and while I knew their banter was all in good fun, I couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness.

I was the newcomer, still in the learning process, and though I understood that no one would hold it against me if I fumbled, the thought of embarrassing myself weighed heavily on my mind.

The game had reached its climax, with both teams needing just one point to win. Every player was on edge, eyes glued to the ball, nerves stretched tight. Victory hung in the balance, and the next move would decide it all. I stood there, heart pounding, hoping that luck might continue to spare me from the spotlight. But as if the universe had heard my thoughts, and wanted to try me and... then... the ball came flying towards me.

For a split second, time seemed to slow down. I positioned and raised my hands, ready to meet the ball with as much confidence as I could muster. But instead of the solid connection I had hoped for, my hands sliced through empty air and the ball thudded onto our court, sealing the win for the opposing team. Cheers erupted from across the net, while on our side, there was a collective sigh of disappointment. Shit!!! Y/N!!!

I stood frozen for a moment, staring down at the ground, feeling the weight of that missed opportunity. As we switched sides and prepared for a new game, I kept my gaze lowered, hoping to avoid the looks of my teammates. The excitement of the match still buzzed around me, but I felt isolated, caught in my own bubble of embarrassment.

"Hey!"

A sudden voice beside me broke through the fog of disappointment clouding my mind. Startled, I glanced up to find a boy standing next to me, his expression open and warm, radiating a friendliness that I hadn't expected. His eyes were filled with a kindness that made my defenses weaker, as if he could see right through my awkwardness.

"Hello", I managed to reply, my voice small, still tinged with the self-consciousness that had been gnawing at me since my misstep. I tried to sound casual, but I could feel the embarrassment still clinging to me, like a shadow I couldn't shake.

"You're new to this school, right?" he asked, his tone light and curious, devoid of the judgment I'd been bracing for.

"Yeah", I confirmed with a small nod, feeling my shoulders relax just a bit. There was no accusation in his voice, no hint of the frustration I'd been expecting. Just curiosity, and maybe even a touch of understanding.

"Oh, okay...", he said, nodding as if that explained everything.

"So, have you played this game before?" he asked softly

"Nope.", I admitted, my voice, quieter now, but the honesty in his gaze made it easier to confess. Somehow, his straightforwardness dissolved the wall I'd built around myself.

"Hmm, I see...", he mused, but there was no disappointment in his tone, only a calm acceptance.

"No problem." His smile broadened.
"I'll teach you. There are a few basic steps to the game that will help." he said with a reassuring smile. It felt relieved that he's not gonna mock me.

He'll teach me!

"Hmm... okay" I responded, the flicker of hope in my chest growing into something warmer, more sweeter. His offer felt like a small, unexpected gift, and I couldn't help but feel little happy to it. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be as bad as I'd feared.

As we took our positions for the next round, the boy stayed close by, his presence reassuring. He began to explain the fundamentals, his voice steady and patient, as if he had all the time in the world to help me. He showed me how to position my hands, how to angle my body to meet the ball, and how to anticipate its trajectory. His instructions were clear and simple, but more than that, they were filled with encouragement.

The game had now transformed into something so much more enjoyable now that I had a grasp on how to play. The tension that once gripped me had melted away, replaced by the thrill of actually participating, of being part of the team.

The boy who had helped me earlier was playing at the center, right beside me, and I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he moved, how his enthusiasm seemed to elevate everyone around him. The way he played, with such confidence and skill, made it clear that he was a pro in this game, someone who had spent countless hours polishing his abilities.

But what struck me most was the way he had patiently taught me how to position my hands just right, ensuring I didn't hurt my wrist by hitting the ball incorrectly. There was something undeniably sweet about how he had taken the time to help a complete stranger like me, making sure I didn't feel lost or out of place. It wasn't just his skill on the court that impressed me - it was his kindness.

The game flowed smoothly now, and I found myself actually playing pretty well. At least, I hoped so. I wasn't missing the ball anymore, though my sense of direction still needed some work. But every time I managed to hit the ball, that boy would flash me an encouraging smile or give me a quick thumbs-up, telling me I was doing really well for a beginner.

His encouragement made all the difference, easing the last remains of anxiety that had been clinging to me. For the first time, I felt like I truly belonged here.

Then it happened - a moment that felt like pure magic. The ball soared towards me, and without thinking, I positioned my hands exactly as I had been taught. My palms connected with the ball in a perfect, satisfying thud, sending it arcing gracefully over the net. Time seemed to slow as it sailed through the air, and when it landed squarely on the opponent's side, there was a brief, stunned silence before my teammates erupted in cheers.

I had scored a point!

The rush of pride and joy that surged through me was indescribable. It wasn't just about winning a point, it was about proving to myself that I could do this. The game continued, with laughter and shouts filling the air, and I was fully immersed in the joy of it all. But all too soon, the school bell rang, signaling the end of our game.

...

I could hear the collective sigh of disappointment from everyone on the court. We weren't ready to stop, not yet, but the rules were the rules. Slowly, we began to disperse, breaking off into small groups as we headed back to our respective classes.

...A few weeks later...

Somehow, by a stroke of luck or perhaps by God grace, the past few weeks had been filled with free periods. Sometimes, a substitute teacher would take over, but more often than not, we were given a games period. That time we eagerly spent on the court, playing game after game. This was because most of our teachers had gone off to check board exam papers, leaving us with more freedom than we were used to.
Immense joy, isn't it???

Each day, we'd wait eagerly for that precious free period... Playing and playing.

And every time, that boy was there, still playing at the center, still encouraging me with the same warmth and enthusiasm as the first day, even if he was in the opposite team. His presence and his sweet soft smile had become a comforting constant, a reminder that even in a new place, with unfamiliar faces, there were still people who would reach out, who would make you feel like you belonged.

The weeks passed in a blur of laughter, friendly competition, and the shared joy of the game. Each match made me a little better, a little more confident. And every time I stepped onto the court, I felt a sense of gratitude, not just for the chance to play, but for the people who had made this new school feel like home.

I guess God has granted us our wishes ...

~•♡🥀🍁(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🍁🥀♡•~

That boy was pretty!!😉🍁

Let's see what comes next...

Take care of yourself and be safe and healthy <3 💫

See you soon lovelies!!!!❣️